


Ixesha

by darasayyy



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, FIx It, M/M, More tags to be added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darasayyy/pseuds/darasayyy
Summary: "What are you doing in my room? How did you get in here" The boy asked arm cocked, ready to throw another projectile at the intruder, who fell from the ceiling?T'Challa bit his lip. The boy held an American accent. How do you explain something as sacred as the ixesha ceremony to an American?~A time travel a/u where T'Challa is transported to various times in Erik's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to lie I watched like half of the times travelers wife and got inspired. I hope you guys like it. Let me know if I should continue!

The first time T’Challa jumped he had just turned eighteen and was officially announced as his father heir.

 

He knew of the rituals and what could happen, but it was still shocking to be transported elsewhere. The feeling was one he couldn't explain but if he had to liken it to anything it felt like his whole body was being stuck with pinpricks repeatedly, and at the same time.

 

T’Challa had just ingested the liquid for the ixesha, his father had warned him it could take days, or even months for it to take effect. 

 

Therefore, he was a little surprised when he was whisked away directly after finishing the drink.

 

When he landed in an unfamiliar _child’s_ bedroom his confusion did not lessen. T’Challa didn’t even have time to ponder where he was before something hard hit his head. He winced barely stopping himself from cursing before he turned around and was face to face with a boy no older than six.

 

He held a glare on his face and he looked somewhat familiar, but T’Challa couldn’t place him.

 

“What are you doing in my room? How did you get in here” The boy asked arm cocked, ready to throw another projectile at the intruder, who fell from the ceiling? Erik was confused, he lived in Oakland he knew how break ins go, but he had never expected a man to just randomly fall through his ceiling. He quickly glanced up confirming there wasn't a hole in it. How did this strongly dressed man get in?

 

T’Challa bit his lip. The boy held an American accent. How do you explain something as sacred as the ixesha ceremony to an _American?_

“I didn’t mean to appear here” he said after a bit of silence. “My name is T’Challa.” He finished lamely squinting at the kid curiously. “What’s your name?”

 

The kid tilted his head, as if sizing T’Challa up. “I have two. But you can call me Erik.” T’Challa nodded.

 

“Nice to meet you Erik, do you by any chance know what year it is?” He asked before slowly sitting on the ground, glancing out the bed room window in confusion. “Where exactly are we currently?”

 

Erik stared at him in confusion. “Its ’92 and we’re in Oakland” in a voice that conveyed he thought T’Challa dumb.

 

T’Challa nodded. “Okay.” He started rubbing his face, “We may not have a lot of time to talk, this being my first jump. But I want to at least explain a bit to you, so when I appear next time you aren’t as confused.”

 

T’Challa watched as Erik eyed him suspiciously as if he were debating throwing what looked to be a snow globe at T’Challa’s head.

 

T’Challa held his hands up “I’m not a threat.” He assured. “I’m a friend, or I will be. I’m not really sure how this is supposed to go.” He admitted, his father had refused to tell of his experience, citing that he didn’t want to cloud T’Challa’s.

 

Erik nodded “Explain.”

 

“Well, I’m from a small country called Wakanda.” He started, raising a brow when Erik suddenly perked up. “Have you heard of it?”

 

Erik nodded slowly. “My dad’s from there.”

 

T’Challa nodded noting that information before continuing. “I am the son of the current crowned king, and when the king decides on his heir there are ceremonies conducted. Several of them involve consumption of liquids. To give strength, to give guidance. Does that make sense?” He questioned, only continuing after Erik nods.

 

“Well one of the last ceremonies is called ixesha, it means time. The purpose is to transport you to various times in the person who is going to impact you the most life. So that you can learn. It’s supposed to teach you something that you can’t learn from lessons. My father did it, and his father before him as well. I don’t know what impact you are going to make in my life Erik, but I pray it’s a good one and I hope I am the same for you.” T’Challa said finishing his explanation. He could feel his body tingle, he wouldn’t be here for much longer.

 

“I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I want you to keep something for me. Can you do that?” T’Challa asked, while fishing in the pocket of his robes, he pulled out a pendent with his symbol. “It’s my mark. It represents my spirit, and since you have things to teach me who else better to hold on to it.”

 

Erik slowly reached his hand out, and T’Challa gently deposited the pendant in his palm.

 

Erik’s eyes widened as T’Challa disappeared from the room, in a burst of light.

 

Weird.

 

Erik stood there for a couple of minutes fingers idly tracing the pendant in his hand. If it weren’t for the cool feel of the metal against his skin, he would’ve thought he made that all up. He felt weird, his father told him many stories of Wakanda but none mentioning anything like this. Questions quickly shot through his mind. Would he be able to do that? If so why didn't his dad tell him, was it because he wasn't fully Wakandan?

 

Erik tucked the pendant in his pocket for safe keeping. 

 

He was going to tell his dad about it as soon as he came home, and perhaps his questions would be answered.

 

~

 

Late that night when his father had finally arrived home Erik showed his father the pendant.

 

He didn’t expect the look on his father’s face. It wasn’t sad per say, maybe it was longing? Erik had never seen such a look upon his father's face and part of him regretted even bringing the stupid pendant to his father's attention.

 

N'Jobu Reached out and caressed Erik’s cheek gently before taking a deep breath and saying, “Sometimes N’Jadaka, we try are hardest to run from fate, but it comes looking for you. No matter how far you are from home.”

 

Erik was confused. “Do you know him? His name was T’Challa.” Erik said before telling his father how he had gotten the pendant. When he finished he couldn’t stop the feeling of anxiety that filled him, never had he seen such sadness on his father’s face.

 

“I don’t know him.” His father said softly before changing the subject. “But I know of the country he is from. Did he tell you about the sunsets?

 

Erik shook his head and let himself be swept away by the narrative his father was telling.

 

There would be time to ask him more questions about T'Challa and the ability he held later.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time T’Challa jumped, was a couple of months later and thought himself in love with Nakia.

 

They had been spending the day together roaming the markets and talking about what they wanted from their futures when he felt the familiar tingling. He didn’t even get to say bye as he was swept away.

 

He appeared in another bed room. This one larger, but less decorated than the one he had landed in the previous year. There were posters of scantily clad girls, and T’Challa found himself looking away as if scared to get caught looking.

 

T’Challa was just about to scan through the contents of the messy desk when the door slammed open, and an older Erik walked in with a girl attached to his waist.

 

Erik paused. Staring at T’Challa with something akin to amusement filtered across his face.

 

T’Challa shifted awkwardly.

 

“I can wait?” He said his voice conveyed his confusion and hesitancy. He didn’t want to interrupt whatever Erik was going to do with this girl.

 

Erik laughed. “Nah, you’re good” before directing his attention the girl. T’Challa tried not to listen in as Erik told her they’d catch up later.

 

_Catching up_. T’Challa mentally snorted. Is that what they are calling it these days.

 

When she was finally gone T’Challa flashed Erik an awkward smile.

 

“Sorry, about your friend,” He said trying not to flail awkwardly. It would be unbecoming of him.

 

Erik sucked his teeth. “She’ll be fine. How’ve you been? What jump is this.”

 

T’Challa shrugged. “I’ve been good, learning and training. This is my second jump.” He watched nervously as Erik gave him a look of surprise before shaking his head.

 

“Let’s not focus on that, tell me about what’s going on in Wakanda.”

 

A smile made its way on T’Challa’s face without his permission. “I have been getting to know someone.” He said vaguely not sure how much he should tell Erik.

 

Erik smirked. “Who? Nakia?”  T’Challa’s face must have looked funny, because Erik laughed loudly, almost hysterically.  “What? You’ve been popping up my whole life, and for the most part, you’ve been young. We know a lot about each other.”

 

T’Challa wondered if it were possible to be mad at himself without sounding like he lost his mind. He was curious though, if he’s talked about her with him before, maybe Erik could point him in the right direction.

 

“So, since you know about her. Do you know how this plays out?” He asked trying not to sound too excited at the prospect of knowing what happens between him and Nakia.

 

Erik shook his head. “Even if I did, you made me promise never to tell you beforehand something that you will go through.” Erik shrugged “Something about growth.”

 

T’Challa sighed. _Sounds about right._

 

“Where are we?” He asked eyes darting to the posters in Erik’s room.

 

“This is my dorm; I’m studying engineering.” T’Challa nodded, he was happy Erik was getting an education.

 

Erik looked at him up and down, “You look very confused. Hopefully your next jump will make more sense, but we have some time to kill before you go. Want to be introduced to something that will change your life?

 

Curiosity peaked, T’Challa nodded hoping it wouldn’t be something he regretted.

 

It wasn’t.

 

For the next couple of hours, Erik introduced T’Challa to the wonderful work that’s called Inuyasha.

 

He almost sighed with regret when his body began to tingle.

 

Until next time Erik.

 

~

 

When T’Challa appeared back, he was alone in the middle of the empty market. Checking the time on his kimoyo bracelet, he realized just how late it was. Hurrying he started his way back to the palace. It didn’t take him long, and when he got through the doors, he was surprised to be greeted by his mother.

 

She had obviously been waiting for him, and when she met his eye, she smiled.

 

“We should talk.”

 

Talking to his mother always gave T’Challa a peace he could not find anywhere else. Perhaps it was because they share a bond unbreakable, formed the moment she gave him life. Whatever the reason, T’Challa was happy to have her to talk to.

 

“Nakia came here very worried for you.” She said as they began the slow walk to his rooms.

 

T’Challa shrugged. “I didn’t know I was going to jump if I had I would’ve rescheduled our outing.” He had admitted. He wasn’t too upset though spending time with Erik had been nice.

 

His mother laughed in response, shaking her head at him as she gave him a patient look, “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had rescheduled it, time waits for no one, and there’s always a possibility of you jumping.”

 

T’Challa sighed. “I guess, I just wish I wasn’t so confused. I mean Erik that’s the name of the guy whose life I jump, I’ve seen him twice and I know nothing more than his name and that he’s American.”

 

His mother squinted, she looked like she wanted to reveal something to him but decided not to. “You’ll find out more in due time. Do not rush; the best blessings are those that are waited for.”

 

T’Challa reluctantly nodded. “It’s weird, he knows me, more than I know him. He won’t tell me anything about my future, but I think his opinion of me is high.”

 

His mother laughed. “Of course, it is, T’Challa. You’re growing more than you know, he’s seen all the best parts of you.”

 

They reached T’Challa’s room.

 

“Get some rest my son, I will see you in the morning.” Kissing him on the cheek, she left in the direction of her room.

 

 

~

 

He jumped again a couple of days later, this time he was ready for Erik. T’Challa grabbed two of his favorite books to give to him.

 

Maybe one jump they would talk about them?

 

When he finally landed, he noticed he was in the same room as the first time he jumped. It looked different. No longer were there toys strung about, but on the floor were…notes? Some were in English but most looked to be in Wakandan script. Curious, but careful not to step on anything he looked around.

 

Was Erik learning his tongue? Who was teaching him? The notes weren’t in T’Challa’s hand.

 

He was interrupted out of his musings by the door opening and quickly closing. In entered Erik who had to be around twelve now. He was tall, though not as tall as he would grow to be, and he looked sad.

 

T’Challa waited for Erik to close the door before greeting him. Erik mumbled a reply.

 

“Did something happen?” T’Challa questioned, watching as the boy sat on his bed.

 

Erik sighed turning to T’Challa with teary eyes. “Mom used all the money she had. We were supposed to get groceries today.” He said voice shaky; he was about to cry.

 

T’Challa bit his lip. He had no currency on him, but he couldn’t in good conscious let Erik go without. He began to twiddle his thumb when the glint of a ring he wore caught his eye. He knew he could get good money, even being lowballed, for a ring like his.

 

He had an idea.

 

“Come on, let’s go out.” He urged. Watching as Erik eyed him curiously, but still slipped on his shoes and grabbed a jacket.

 

Getting Erik to guide him to a pawn store was easier than expected. They couldn’t walk anywhere without there being one on the corner and T’Challa was able to easily sell his ring for two grand. Which he promptly used to take Erik to get food for the house.

 

It felt like they bought the whole store, but it barely put a dent in the money, T’Challa made. Once they got the food to the apartment Erik stayed in they quickly put it away, and T’Challa watched as Erik began to fix himself something to eat, while he put the rest of the money in an envelope for Erik to keep safe.

 

“Are you hungry?” Erik asked as he began to cut up a cucumber. T’Challa shook his head.

 

“Where are your parents?” he questioned. It was almost ten at night, and he and Erik were the only two in the apartment.

 

He watched as Erik eyed him funnily. “You must’ve not jumped there yet, but my dad was killed.” He said pausing in his actions. “I’m not going to tell you any more than that. My mom is out, somewhere.” Erik shrugged. “I don’t know where she goes on nights like these.”

 

T’Challa frowned. “Sorry about your father.” He said softly watching has Erik shrugged. “He’s in a better place now, plus you helped me a lot.”

 

T’Challa looked at him skeptically. “You did” Erik insisted. “You help every time you jump. Even if you don’t know it.”

 

T’Challa nodded and watched Erik cook in silence. He wondered, what type of things he did to help smooth over the loss of someone so important. He wouldn’t press however. He’d take his mother’s advice.

 

He was here to learn after all.

 

Erik finished making himself dinner and then sat at the table. He ate quickly and T’Challa felt sad. When was the last time Erik ate? He wouldn’t push it though, not wanting to upset the boy.

 

“I bought some things for you.” He said as he walked to Erik’s room. T’Challa came back with the two books he jumped with. “I didn’t know how old you’d be, but I thought that you’d maybe like them?” He shrugged and laid them on the table. “They’re my favorite books right now.”

 

He watched as Erik looked at the cover of Things Fall Apart, and Crime and Punishment with curiosity.

 

Erik shot him a grin. “Thanks, I’ll read them and one day we’ll have to talk about them.”

 

T’Challa smiled, it would be nice to discuss what Erik saw in both of these books. “I saw you were learning my tongue.” He said, “next time I’ll try to bring notes?” he offered, watching as Erik’s face lit up.

 

“That would be cool!” Erik said scraping the last bit of food on his fork.

 

 He opened his mouth to say more when his body began to tingle. He sighed. The timing of jumps back home was terrible.

 

“Bye “T’Challa” Erik said before finishing his food.

 

“Bye Erik,” T’Challa said softly before he disappeared.

 

Where in Erik’s life would he end up next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also definitely recommend that everyone reads Things Fall Apart and maybe Crime and Punishment (but it's super long). They're both good books.
> 
> ~
> 
> Thanks for reading y'all! let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

T’Challa’s next jump couldn’t have come at a better time. 

 

He and Nakia had been discussing Wakandan isolation politics when their discussion became heated.

 

T’Challa had argued that the only way that their country could continue to thrive is with its current policy. Nakia had disagreed. Nakia had just started her training to be a liason for Wakanda, tasked with gathering intelligence on certain operations. And from what she saw of the dealings outside of Wakanda, she felt as if her country could do a lot to better the world.

 

T’Challa disagreed, Wakanda was not made to be anyone savior and he felt that doing too much for other countries would weaken their own.

 

Nakia had just called him selfish and told him if he saw the world away from his life of privilege he’d understand the damage Wakanda was doing just by staying neutral. He was just about to shoot back a scathing reply when he felt a familiar tingle.

 

T’Challa appeared in Erik’s room and was shocked by the sight greeted him. Erik was young, maybe a year older than he was when T’Challa first jumped and he was _crying._

 

No, crying wasn’t the right word, he was wailing. You could hear the grief in his cries, and it struck a chord in T’Challa’s own heart.

 

Erik was wearing old pajamas, but he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And clutched tightly in his left hand was a wrinkled picture of his  _uncle N’Jobu?_

 

Steelinghimself put that information aside there would be time to question that later. For now, at least he was going to focus on comforting the child.

 

“Erik?” T’Challa said softly watching sympathetically as the boy jerked in his direction. His tears didn’t lessen though, and T’Challa suddenly felt bad for intruding on Erik’s grief like this. He walked towards the bed and gently sat beside him. 

 

“He, he killed him,” Erik said softly. “Uncle James stabbed my daddy and now he’s gone.” Tears continued to spill down the boy’s cheek broken sounds escaping his mouth.

 

T’Challa looked at the boy sadly. What could he say?

 

“I should’ve known something was going to happen,” Erik said softly after a while. “Uncle James didn’t even say hi to me when he came over. My dad just told me to go outside. I should’ve stayed.” He paused. “I saw him run out of the apartment, but I didn’t see my dad following him. So, I went in and he was just…” A sob broke free from Erik. “He was just lying there.”

 

T’Challa reached out putting his hand over Erik’s. Erik turned and faced him. “You want to know what he said to me?”

 

T’Challa nodded. “Only if you feel you can tell it.” He said he wouldn’t push Erik for information.

 

“He called me my name, the one he gave me. He said N’Jadaka, and then he died.” T’Challa felt tears run down his face. He hadn’t even realized he was crying alongside with Erik.

 

After a couple of seconds, T’Challa wiped the tears from his cheek and asked. “Did your authorities catch this uncle?” He asked.

 

Erik shook his head. “They can’t find him.” He said softly. “They probably won’t, what’s another murder in Oakland to the cops?”

 

T’Challa didn’t answer. Instead, he found his attention drawn to the picture in Erik’s hand. Closer to it now he could see there was another figure beside his uncle. Erik noticed his line of vision.

 

“That’s him.” Erik said “Uncle James. I took this picture.” He said uncurling his hand so T’Challa could get a better look.

 

T’Challa froze. He knew that face, saw it almost every day during lessons.

 

_Zuri_

 

Erik looked at T’Challa curiously. “What?”

 

T’Challa paused. “I know of your father, I may have met him once as a baby, but I’ve heard stories of him throughout my childhood.” He admitted avoiding Erik’s gaze. “He is…was my father’s youngest brother.” He let the information sink in for a second before continuing. “I know of your Uncle James, but I know him as Zuri.”

 

He shook his head. “My father told me that his brother died in a fire with his family. I have Zuri my whole life, and never have I felt so blindsided as I am now. Make no mistake Erik, I will seek justice for you and my uncle.”

 

They sat in silence.

 

After a while, Erik cries had finally tapered off and he was now retelling stories of him and his father. T’Challa would interject with little things that he knew of Erik’s father while trying to contain the anger he felt.

 

He would figure this out.

 

And once he did, he would seek the justice his uncle deserved. He had to.

 

For Erik.

  

_~_

When T’Challa arrived home, he immediately when in search of his father.

 

 He was angry, angrier than any time he could recall in his life. All he could think of was Erik’s grief, and how Erik was all alone, in a time and place that T’Challa didn’t have control of. T’Challa felt betrayed, his whole life he looked up to Zuri, and his father and they were both murderers?

 

What could be so important that his father could overlook someone killing his brother? T’Challa couldn’t imagine what he’d do if someone even attempted Shuri’s life.

 

He found his father in his study looking over some paperwork. T’Chaka was surprised at the intrusion and looked at his son curiously when he noted the look of anger and disgust he was getting from his heir. 

 

“You have lied to me Baba, my whole life.” T’Challa accused arms crossed anger radiating off of him in waves. “You told me N’Jobu was killed in a robbery. How many other deaths are you responsible for that have been covered up? How many people have you had Zuri kill? How many families have you destroyed while you sat here protected in this castle?”

 

T’Chaka looked at his son, confusion and hurt shown clearly on his face. 

 

“What are you speaking of?” He asked his son, who in turn glared at him. T’Chaka was shocked. Never had his son shot him such a look, and if he were a lesser man, he would’ve been scared. Instead he was confused, where were these accusations coming from?

 

“Do not pretend Baba, Erik was there, Zuri stabbed his father, Baba and then he just left him there to die.” T’Challa could feel the tears on his face. “I don’t pretend to understand your relationship with your brother, but to leave a child there? To suffer?”

 

T’Challa’s voice rose, “I had wondered what type of wrong was at play. You know, the jump before this one he had no food in his house. He was hungry. Royalty, abandoned, by no fault of his own. How can you even bare to look at yourself?”

 

There was a brief pause and when T’Chaka was sure T’Challa wouldn’t interrupt him he began to talk. “I never sent Zuri to kill your uncle. His mission was to protect him while my brother gathered intel. I trusted him to keep my brother safe. If Erik person is in fact telling the truth, then Zuri’s involvement in my brother’s death is news to me.”

 

His father stood. “I cannot change the past, and I cannot undo deeds I had no part in. But there is always hope for the future.” He placed a hand on T’Challa’s shoulder, trying to calm his still worked up son. “You are learning, lessons I cannot teach you. You are going down a path that is making you a good man. Do not let your anger consume you.” 

 

T’Challa shook his head. “Zuri orphaned Erik” T’Challa repeated angry. “Zuri, orphaned N’Jadaka, and if this were to happen to me and Shuri, I would hope you’d seek justice for us.” He said staring at his father.

 

His father sighed, his grip on T’Challa’s shoulder tightening. “How do we punish murderers?”

 

“Hard labor.” Came T’Challa’s instant reply.

 

Most murder trials in Wakanda ended up with the convicted sentenced to labor in the mines. They’d be bound and forced to work until their sentence was done, or until they died naturally.

 

Whichever one came first.

 

“How do we punish those who commit treason, that ends in the death of one of our citizens?” T’Chaka asked, eyes sad as he looked upon his son.

 

“Death.” T’Challa said, voice hard. Punishing Zuri wouldn’t bring Erik’s father back, but it would at least reset the balance, and when it was over T’Challa would bring proof of their justice to Erik he’d gift him with Zuri’s life bead. Then he’ll know that Wakanda looks down on those who murder in cold blood.

 

There was silence between the two. T’Chaka nodded. “You know what we must do.”

 

T’Challa nodded. “I will gather the Dora.” He said before turning away from his father. T’Challa walked slowly to the door that led out of his father’s study, conflicting feelings running through him. He shook them off though, he wouldn’t let his familiarity with Zuri get in the way of justice for this crime against his family.

 

Executions were rare in Wakanda.

 

By the time the Dora had Zuri in custody, every council member had been informed. There was confusion. They had thought wrongly he was killed by some American, and most were in a state disbelief.  

 

They had gathered around while T’Chaka talked. When questioned how he came to this information by a sceptic member he nodded to his son who simply said, “It was revealed to me during one of my Ixesha jumps.”

 

No one stood to argue against T’Challa. They all knew that things revealed during Ixesha were true, there were few changes that those who jumped could make on the situation around them.

 

However, Wakandan law states that every accused criminal had the chance to defend themselves. They would be given a serum, mixed with liquid vibranium that would enhance truthfulness, and asked questioned regarding their crime. Then a council would vote, on their guilt and decide on the sentence.

 

It was agreed upon quickly.

 

Zuri’s trial was set to happen the following day at noon.

 

When the council was dismissed T’Chaka and his son stood in the room by themselves. They said nothing to one another. Both mentally preparing themselves for the long day they had ahead of them.

 

T’Challa found himself thinking about his argument with Nakia, wondering idly what she’d think of his actions today, in comparison with their argument earlier. Dismissing the thought, he headed to his room, to try and get sleep before tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I tweaked Erik's dads death a bit to fit with the rest of the story. So like in canon Zuri was pretending to be James except, T'Chaka was not involved in the confrontation. The next chapter will be the trial and explain everything!.
> 
> ~
> 
> THANKS FOR READING


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning came quicker than expected, T’Challa who barely slept half the night felt sick. He has never attended a murder trial, and he was anxious. This wasn’t some random street criminal; this was Zuri. 

 

A man he spent most of his life admiring. A man he realized he didn’t even know. Still, he felt sad. It was a confusing feeling, and as he stood under the hot run of water spilling from his shower, he couldn’t help but sigh. 

 

It was going to be a long day.

 

T’Challa got out of the shower and quickly got dressed, heading to the dining room to eat before the trial. His mother and sister sat already lightly chatting. 

 

His father wasn’t there.

 

T’Challa greeted them both, not surprised that Shuri looked exhausted she never got up this early willingly. The sun had barely risen, but because this was a crime committed against a royal, all members of the family were expected to be there.

 

“T’Challa” His mother called softly, gently asking for his attention. His eyes met his mothers. She looked sad. 

 

Zuri was a close friend of hers for many years, and he knew she was hurt by the revelation of his crime. “I am deeply troubled by what occurred. When we heard of N’Jobu’s passing, we were devastated. We couldn’t even bring him home to bury him, and now to find out that someone we welcomed in our home, who has been around our children committed this atrocity is heartbreaking.”

 

T’Challa nodded. “It is even more saddening when you realize he left a child there. A child innocent to this world left to wander without his father. While we were here ignorant of his continued existence.” He sighed picking at the food in front of him. “I cannot change what Zuri did, nor can I stop Erik from encountering anything Bast has seen fit for him to, but I can make sure this wrong doesn’t go unpunished. So, that the next time I jump he will know that someone cares.”

 

His mother and Shuri both nodded solemnly. 

 

“Tell me about Erik.” Shuri prompted after a bit of silence.

 

T’Challa shrugged. “I’ve met him twice as a child and once grown. He’s a very serious child.” He paused thinking of his interaction with the older version of Erik. “Older Erik, is interesting. I cannot fully say much about him, besides the fact that when I appeared he was leading a lady into his room. He doesn’t seem scarred by what Zuri did, and I do not know if that is because of the Ixesha bringing me to him or because of his own strength. Regardless one day I hope to bring him home.”

 

Shuri nodded. “Does he know about home? Did our uncle ever tell him where he was from?” She asked before stuffing a piece of fruit in her mouth.

 

T’Challa nodded. “He does. Our uncle wanted to take him here, so he could know where he was from.”

 

“We have a cousin.” He said, picking at the food in front of him. “I don’t know where he is right now, but because of Zuri’s crime, he grew up alone. No child should ever have to struggle to eat.”  

 

From the corner of his eye he saw Shuri nod solemnly. 

 

There wasn’t much talk after that and the three of them finished their breakfast in silence. 

 

It seemed they had finished in time because no sooner had the plates began to be cleaned away, then a Dora came to guide them to the room where the trial would take place. 

 

It was time.

 

~

 

The mood in the room was somber. 

 

Those who came to witness the trial were a mixture of sad and angry. Most couldn’t believe that murder charges were being bought against Zuri. And their whispers of what they thought happened filled the room. 

 

When T’Challa, Shuri and his mother entered the room the volume of the talking increased, but T’Challa paid no mind as he sat down in the chair to the right of the lavish chair his father would sit in when he came.

 

The Dora procession announced his father’s arrival, and everyone watched as he walked in his eyes immediately meeting T’Challa’s. 

 

When he sat in his chair he gestured for the trial council to be led in. They were to sit quietly and listen to the evidence presented, afterwards they would vote on Zuri’s fate. 

 

Once everyone was led in T’Chaka waved with his left hand, and Zuri was brought in. 

 

The once regal man looked tired. Prison, even in Wakanda was not easy, and the experience seemed to show on his face.

 

He walked slowly guided by two Dora until he was led into the middle of the room. 

 

A councilman stood “We have come today because of serious accusations against the man in front of us.” He said loudly effectively silencing all conversation. “Who is bringing charges against Zuri, son of Badu?” He called, looking around.

 

It was quiet, and T’Challa took a deep breath before standing up and stepping forward.

 

“I, T’Challa son of King T’Chaka bring these charges against Zuri, son of Badu.”

 

Whispers started immediately. 

 

The  _Prince?_

 

The king raised a hand, “Silence.” He commanded to the audience before gesturing the council member to continue. 

 

“The charges against you Zuri, are premeditated murder and two counts of treason.” He paused to glance at Zuri. “How do you plead, Zuri son of Badu?”

 

A hush fell over the room. 

 

Zuri coughed slightly, looking around the room “Not guilty” he said loudly ignoring the gasps of the audience. 

 

There were gasps of shocks that spread throughout the room. Because of his plea there would be a nyaniso serum administered. 

 

The Nyaniso or truth serum was used in criminal cases when the defendant pleaded innocent. The defendant and any witnesses necessary would be given it to drink. It would inhibit their anterior cingulated cortex, inhibiting the ability to tell lies.

 

 

The councilman gestured for T’Challa to talk. “During my Ixesha ceremony, I had the pleasure to meet someone who we all thought was dead. My cousin N’Jadaka, son of Prince N’Jobu.” 

 

The room seemed to collectively gasp. It had been common knowledge that the former prince perished in a fire with his family. But now their crown prince was telling them differently. 

 

“How do we know you’re telling us the truth?” Someone called out, who T’Challa recognized as a nephew of Zuri’s, a boy he grew up playing with.

 

“I have no reason to lie” T’Challa replied raising his arms in surrender “I’ll even submit to the nyaniso if required of me.” 

 

The council man nodded and looked to the king who waved for him to continue. 

 

“Bring out the nyaniso.”

 

T’Challa watched as a Dora, walked in head held high with the black bowl filled with a cloudy black liquid in her hand. She stood in front of Zuri and told him to open his mouth. Reluctant Zuri opened his mouth.

 

It did not take long for the nyaniso to take effect. They tested it on him by asking him things like what is his name, and what tribe he is from. Once it was established that the serum was working the council man requested silence and began his line of questioning.

 

“When you reported to King T’Chaka of his brother’s death, you told of a fire that burned the whole apartment building down. Did a fire kill Prince N’Jobu?” He asked Zuri. 

 

T’Challa watched as Zuri attempted to fight off the effects of Nyaniso. It didn’t work however and soon Zuri was speaking, clearly reluctant.

 

“No, a fire did not kill the prince. There was a fire the neighboring apartment that I set. It that looked exactly like the one he lived in, so I didn’t have to try to fabricate proof.” 

 

T’Challa heard his father take a breath. Perhaps he believed his friend would be vindicated? 

 

The council man nodded and asked the next question. “How did Prince N’Jobu die?” 

 

There was a pause as Zuri attempted to hold in the truth. T’Challa watched eyes hard as he quivered. He felt disgusted.

 

“I had come to his apartment that night wanting to talk to him. To discuss his plans and why he thought it was a good idea to go to his brother and ask him, ask Wakanda to reach out to people not our own. He had this idea that we help those affected by oppression.” Zuri paused. “The discussion got heated and I blew my cover, I was supposed to just watch over him be his friend in this foreign county. Instead at that moment I became his enemy, and when my cover blew I could only think to do one thing.” He paused turning to meet T’Chaka’s eyes. “I stabbed him.”

 

The king had tears in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry though; he wouldn’t let Zuri know just how much he was hurt. 

 

Zuri didn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected him.

 

The room began to fill with soft whispers as the audience eyed their royal family.

 

T’Challa’s head was bowed, but they could see tears running down his face. Shuri

Looked troubled as if she was truly seeing Zuri for the first time. Their queen looked heartbroken, but she held her head up high as silent tears rolled down her face. 

 

The council man continued “And what of Prince N’Jobu’s son N’Jadaka? What did you do to the boy?”

 

“I left him there.” Zuri said automatically “his mother; the American N’Jobu decided to be with was addicted to drugs. I figured the hot would either take that path or end up in their system for unwanted kids. I did not kill him.” 

 

The councilman nodded and then turned to the members sitting at the table asking them if they had any questions they wanted to ask. 

 

A councilwoman from the river tribe raised her hand. 

 

When the king nodded she stood and asked loudly “What was so wrong with N’Jobu’s Proposition? Wasn’t he sent to America by his brother our king in order to gain knowledge and help better our country?” 

 

Zuri snorted. “N’Jobu was weak. He saw poverty and injustice around him and felt that it was our duty to help. He was filled with fantasies of some revolution. Believing that the oppressed would become rulers.” He paused. “It’s not in Wakanda’s way to reach out to other nations and we do not start wars.” 

 

Zuri looked like he was going to say something else when T’Challa interrupted him “why not bring him home where his king could tell him no. Why murder him?”

 

Zuri glances at T’Challa “because the king would have never been able to deny his brother. I did what needed to be done for the sake of my country.” 

 

There was a pause and the audience watched shocked as their king wiped tears from his eyes. It was rare to see T’Chaka show extreme emotion. 

 

The councilman nodded to the councilwoman and then looked around. “Is there anyone who would like to speak on Zuri, Son of Badu.” 

 

The room was silent, and for a second T’Challa thought no one would speak up when Zuri’s Nephew called out. 

 

“I would like to know how Prince T’Challa come about this information!” He yelled. 

 

T’Challa stepper forward. “During my Ixesha, I met a boy who goes by Erik, but his father named him N’Jadaka. He is prince N’Jobu’s son and had the unfortunate fate to come upon his father bleeding and dying after Zuri left a knife in him.” He said loudly, meeting the eyes of Zuri’s nephew. 

 

The room gasped. It was very rare that details of the Ixesha ceremony were told the public. It was even rarer for things learned to result in punishment. 

 

Who could argue against what T’Challa learned?  No one. 

 

The councilman nodded. He wouldn’t ask T’Challa for any specific details on Erik or where exactly he is. It’s taboo, and no one wanted to risk the wrath of Bast. 

 

He gave the room another go around, looking for anyone else who wanted to speak up. 

 

No one did. 

 

He then turned toward the council gathered to decide Zuri’s fate. 

 

“You have been gathered here to hear Zuri speak on his behalf and to question the one who brings charges against him. Have you any questions for the accused or the accuser?” He asked. 

 

He waited. And when none raised their hand, he continued on. 

 

“Then you have heard what Zuri had to say, you have heard what prince T’Challa had to say as well. You will have a vote.” He paused, “on count one of premeditated murder, if you believe Zuri son of Badu is guilty raise your hand.”

 

T’Challa watched in satisfaction as almost every council member raised a hand. 

 

“On count two of treason, which led to the death of a royal family member, if you believe Zuri son of Badu is guilty raise your hand” 

 

Once again, the majority of the hands rose. There was no need to even ask for the non-guilty vote. The verdict was clear to everyone. 

 

Zuri, Son of Badu was guilty.

 

The room was quiet. To be found guilty of both was a death sentence, there would be no mercy for Zuri. 

 

The councilman nodded. 

 

“Then I Taavi with consent from our king sentence you, Zuri son of Badu to death, to be carried out during the sunset.”

 

There was a cry from the audience but T’Challa ignored it. Instead he focused on Zuri who was being led out of the room, to the cell where he would wait execution. 

 

Once Zuri was out of the room, the king dismissed everyone gesturing for his family to stay. 

 

When the room was empty T’Chaka turned to his family. 

 

“He will be executed soon.” He said softly. “You all should go rest before then.”

 

They nodded and all four of them headed in the direction of their rooms. 

~

 

Sunset came quicker than T’Challa expected, and he soon found himself dressed in ceremonial robes. 

 

He joined his parents and Shuri outside in the viewing area, that towered over where Zuri’s sentence would be carried out. 

 

It was silent. The only people allowed besides them to watch this execution was Zuri’s family members and the council. 

 

Before the sentence was carried out he was stripped of his own kimoyo bracelet, the life bead would go to T’Challa, the rest of the bracelet would be destroyed.

 

As he was being stripped, the Dora paused. He had another kimoyo bracelet on his opposite wrist, and when it was switched on there was a gasp throughout. It was N’Jobu’s.

 

Why had Zuri kept N’Jobu’s beads? No one was going to ask though they could all speculate it had something to do with guilt. Once Zuri’s life bead and the bracelet he stole was given to T’Challa the sentence was carried out swiftly.

 

No one wept.

 

~

 

T’Challa’s next jump happened after the sentence was carried out. He had been gripping Zuri’s life bead along with his uncle’s kimoyo bracelet when he felt the familiar tingle of the jump. He landed in Erik’s room loudly, almost tripping over his feet.

 

Erik didn’t look like he had aged much if any from the last jump and with a quick glance around the room he saw his uncle’s obituary. It looked new or very well taken care of. 

 

“Hey,” Erik said softly, voice hoarse. He had been sleeping, T’Challa noted as he watched Erik wipe the sleep out of his eyes. 

 

“Hello, Erik.” He said watching as Erik looked him up and down. 

 

He was still dressed in his ceremonial robes, and he wondered idly how he looked to the boy.

 

“What’re you all dressed up for?” Erik asked squinting at the embroidered pattern on T’Challa’s jacket.

 

“Your father N’Jobu was my father’s younger brother. He had no desire to be king, but he was royal nonetheless. Because he was murdered by a Wakandan, Zuri who you knew as Uncle James had charges of treason and murder that I bought against him.”

 

T’Challa gave Erik time to digest what he said. The boy had tears in his eyes, but T’Challa didn’t let it stop him from continuing. 

 

“He was found guilty of both charges and sentenced to death. In Wakanda death sentences are rare. This being the first death sentence in fifty years.” T’Challa dug into his pocket and pulled out a kimoyo bead and a kimoyo. “This was his life bead, but because of his crime against your father, it is yours. He also had in his possession your father’s kimoyo bracelet; usually you would have your own from birth. But because you are here, and I am from a time later than this, I’m not sure if bringing you one would work. However, your fathers should.” He held his hand out for Erik to take both items. 

 

Erik reached out and gently took both the bead and the bracelet out of T’Challa’s hand. He slipped the bracelet on his wrist eyes widening as it shrunk to fit his wrist. Erik touched the middle bead and watched as it turned on. It showed Erik information about himself and when he swiped he could see information and pictures of his father. A slight smile on his face as he saw pictures he had never seen before. 

 

“I was able to add pictures my father had of yours. It’s not much, but I felt you should have it.”

 

Erik nodded whispering a soft thank you as he stared at his father’s face. 

 

Erik then turned his attention to Zuri’s life bead. Glancing up at T’Challa he gestured to the lone bead in his hand “What do I use this for?” 

 

T’Challa shrugged. “Keep it. When you come home, everything that was once Zuri’s will be yours. This bead assures that.”

 

Erik stared at him eyes wide, but T’Challa kept talking. 

 

“I cannot change the past, but I can make sure in the future no child of Wakanda loses a parent the way you did.” T’Challa watched as Erik moved off of the bed. He was surprised to find himself embraced tightly by him.

 

“Thank you,” Erik said into T’Challa’s shirt.

 

Erik let him go and then gestured to his desk. “I got my dad’s stuff from his hiding place. My mom doesn’t know I have it.” He said before shrugging “I don’t think she cares. She got rid of all his clothes. But I have this and a ring he left me.” 

 

T’Challa nodded. “I am glad you were able to save pieces of him. How long has passed since my last jump?” He asked curiously.

 

Erik squinted. “It’s been six months, the last time you appeared was two days before my dad’s funeral. I marked it on the calendar.” He gestured to the calendar on the wall, while grabbing a market and drawing a cat? T’Challa squinted at the picture smiling slightly; it was a Panther. 

 

“This is your third time seeing me. I’ll keep count, so you don’t get confused.” Erik said while looking at T’Challa curiously.

 

“Since you’re a prince and I’m your cousin does that make me a prince too?” 

 

T’Challa laughed. “It does. One day Erik when you’re older you’ll always have a home to come to. And who knows you may even become king.” 

 

Erik nodded eyes wide. 

 

Imagine that. A kid from Oakland a _king_. 

 

T’Challa’s jump didn’t last much longer after that and he soon found himself in the hallway outside of his room, wondering just what else Erik would reveal to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyaniso means truth in Xhosa!   
> ~
> 
> Let me know what y'all think! THANKS FOR READING


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I’m slowly trying to move to the main plot [;___;] let me know what you think!

T’Challa didn’t jump for a couple of days and he felt selfishly grateful to have time to himself. He declined Nakia’s attempts at setting up a meeting, assuring her that no he wasn’t mad, he just needed some time to decompress. Because of that he spent a lot of his free time sparring with Okoye.  
  
Okoye was doing a great job of not mentioning Nakia. T’Challa could tell she was curious; sometimes he’d catch her sending him looks that didn’t bode well for his continued avoidance of the subject.  
  
They had just finished sparring. Okoye, who graciously won stood over T’Challa smirking at her prince who laid there, exhausted.  
  
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet” T’Challa said watching as Okoye quirked her lips.  
  
She shrugged leaning against her spear, “You and Nakia disagree often, If I asked about every fight I’d never have peace.”  
  
T’Challa laughed before sitting up. “I haven’t talked to her since before Zuri’s trial.” He admitted after a few moments of silence.  
  
“She did say you were avoiding her.” Okoye replied watching as various emotions crossed his face.  
  
“I am not.” He insisted. “I just need time to think.” He paused glancing down at his kimoyo bracelet. “Before this ceremony, I had a good picture of what I thought my future held. Who’d I spend it with. What I’d do.” He looked to Okoye who raised a brow. “Now I don’t know. I’m not who I was before the Ixesha, and I feel like I still have further to go.”  
  
“And Nakia?” She asked voice deridingly neutral.  
  
T’Challa shrugged. “We are on different paths.” He said. “I don’t think they’ll merge in the way they once were.” It hurt to admit it and T’Challa would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt,  
  
Okoye nodded. “You know she will not let you avoid her forever”  
  
T’Challa nodded and about to reply, but the familiar feel of the jump began to spread.  
  
Okoye gave him a knowing look. “Talk to her when you get back.” She urged watching as her prince faded away.  
  
They’d finish this conversation when he returned.  
  
~

T’Challa landed in Erik’s dorm clumsily.

Looking around he noticed the room didn’t change much from the last time he jumped here.  
  
Knowing that Erik could be anywhere, he picked up a book Erik had laying in the desk and laid on the bed idly flipping through the pages.  
  
It wasn’t long before the door to the room opened and Erik walked in. His hair was long, and in neat twists, and it looked like he was starting to grow out a beard.  
  
He looked good.  
  
Erik smirked. Looking T’Challa up and down before sitting at T’Challa’s feet.  
  
“How long have you been here?” He asked glancing at the book T’Challa held.  
  
T’Challa shrugged, “not too long, maybe ten minutes”  
  
Erik nodded. “Not too bad.” He paused scratching his head. “Actually, there’s a party I was going to check out. Want to come with?” Erik asked laughing as T’Challa’s face lit up.  
  
Erik stood up. “But first, you have to change.” Erik laughed at the offended look he was shot. “You can’t go out dressed like that. Don’t worry, I got some things that should fit you.”  
  
  
It didn’t take long for Erik to find him clothes and T’Challa felt like he looked completely different in Erik’s clothes. Erik had lent him a soft maroon tee, some dark jeans and shoes to go with. Before declaring him fit to go out.  
  
The walk to the party was quiet but T’Challa was full of excitement.  
  
Sure, he had been to parties before. But those were stuffy parties, filled with rich dignitaries.  
  
Nothing like where Erik was leading him to.  
  
T’Challa could hear the music from down the street and he couldn’t help the smile that went across his face. No one would know him here, so he didn’t have to worry about his father hearing about his actions.  
  
So, he decided to make the most of it and let loose.  
  
When he walked in he was immediately handed a cup and a brownie with a smiley on it by bald kid who smirked and told him to have a good time. T’Challa thanked him and ate the brownie in two bites not caring to savor the odd taste before walking around the house, meeting people and taking shots.  
  
T’Challa felt on top of the world. He felt oddly light as he sipped his drink. He watched people dance for a couple of minutes before he was dragged to the crowded room wherepeople were dancing by some girl whose name he couldn’t remember and was too embarrassed to ask.  
  
When she began dancing with him he felt awkward but tried his best to meet her hips. T’Challa was off beat but couldn’t bring himself to care too much as he let the music take over.  
  
What felt like hours passed and T’Challa found himself bored with dancing. He decided to seek out Erik, just to make sure he was okay. It didn’t take T’Challa long to find his wayward cousin in the kitchen who seemed to be occupied in conversation with several guys. Not wanting to interrupt T’Challa was about to leave the room when Erik’s booming voice called him over.  
  
“Hey guys this, this is T’Challa I love him” Erik said laughing loudly as the guys cooed and teased him.  
  
T’Challa grinned and was about to say something nice about Erik in return when he felt the press of soft lips against his.

It felt like it went on for forever as T’Challa leaned into the kiss deepening it enjoying the nice feelings that came with it. It felt nice, and T’Challa could feel Erik’s arms wrapping around his body. Suddenly as if remembering who he was kissing T’Challa jerked away from the kiss.  
  
Erik looked hurt his face displaying several emotions, but before T’Challa could say anything he felt the soft pull of the jump.  
  
  
Fuck  
  
~

  
Coming back to his room from the jump T’Challa felt hysterical. The light feeling, he once had was now overshadowed by anxiety.  
  
Erik kissed him, and he kissed Erik back.

T’Challa would have loved for this jump to last even a couple of minutes longer, just so he could ask questions.  
  
So many thoughts rushed through his mind that he found himself asking questions without answering them Did it mean anything? Why did it feel so right? How would he face Erik again knowing what he did?  
  
T’Challa leaned against the wall, gently caressing his lips with his finger. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the soft press of Erik’s lips against his. It was nice.  
  
Sure, T’Challa had been kissed before. It was nothing new. T’Challa was also used to the gripping sense of anxiety that accompanies budding feelings for another person.  
  
But, this was more complicated.  
  
Erik was apart of his Ixesha ceremony, and while they would one day meet in his present day there was no guarantee when that would happen.

How did kings before him live during their Ixesha?

  
The past week has felt like a lifetime and T’Challa felt fragmented yet whole at the same time. The feeling wasn’t one he’d wish on any enemy and if he could he’d give anything to know just how this experience would end.

  
The kiss kept replaying repeatedly in his mind and T’Challa couldn’t help but release a breathless laugh.  
  
Not knowing what was going to happen next made him anxious. If he knew where he was going to jump next he’d be able to think straight and maybe give Erik an explanation.  
  
T’Challa was so caught up in his musings that he failed to notice his sister in his room until she cleared her throat noisily.  
  
Shuri entered her brother’s room rather noisily, trying to announce her presence without yelling that she was there. The past couple of days had been weird. Her brother had requested space after his last jump and she reluctantly gave it to him.  
  
But how much space could he need?  
  
He didn’t talk to her, and he declined all of Nakia’s attempts. He even blew off Okoye, which was in itself a red flag. So, Shuri took it upon herself to check in on her stubborn big brother. She found him laying on his bed on his back staring at the ceiling.  
  
She stood beside his bed for a minute waiting for him to recognize her presence. When he didn’t she huffed, cleared her throat and said, “Big brother.” Trying to get his attention, she smirked when he flinched. So, caught up in whatever that big head of his was thinking that he didn’t realize she was there.  
  
T’Challa looked to his sister, an annoyed look painted on his face. “What is it Shuri?” he asked watching as she crossed her arms.  
  
“You have been in this sort of emo like brooding for the past couple of days.” She started ignoring his offended scoff. “We are all worried, you haven’t talked to anyone. Has something happened during your past couple of jumps?” She asked trying not to sound like she was pushing him to speak.  
  
There was a pause. “I find myself, confused.” He admitted softly turning his attention to his ceiling. He didn’t elaborate, and he expected her to push him, ask him why.  
  
She didn’t however, instead she sat beside him idly picking at her shirt. “We’re all confused brother.” She said softly. “After Zuri, I think we all had to step back and reevaluate.”  
  
T’Challa scoffed. “Not Zuri. I mean I am still angry about that, the anger will go away eventually. I am talking about Erik.”  
  
Shuri looked at him curiosity across her face. “Did you guys argue?” she asked, watching as he shook his head.  
  
“We kissed.” He said, watching as her expression changed from worry to curiosity.  
  
T’Challa wondered idly if it would’ve been better to lie to his sister. It was too late now, and if T’Challa wasn’t feeling anxious he would’ve teased Shuri on the shocked look on her face.  
  
Instead he leaned against the wall, dressed in Erik’s clothes fidgeting as he avoided his sisters gaze.

But even without looking at her he could tell he was in for a long interrogation.


End file.
